


Ask, Receive, Regret?

by Trista_zevkia



Series: Platonic [13]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics), Superman/Batman - Fandom, World's Finest (Comics)
Genre: Enemas, M/M, Mad Science, Medical Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-15
Updated: 2012-03-15
Packaged: 2017-11-02 04:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The enema that could save the world one day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ask, Receive, Regret?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyblkrose](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ladyblkrose).



> When [ladyblkrose](http://ladyblkrose.livejournal.com/) made this [ Request ](http://ladyblkrose.livejournal.com/79477.html), I saw my name on it, even if she didn’t type it;P It’s up to her to answer the question posed in the title.

Clark Kent adjusted his glasses nervously as he waited for the doorbell to be answered. As an intrepid reporter, he had no reason to be nervous. He’d dealt with hateful people who didn’t want to answer questions about their misdeeds often enough, and not been sweaty. But even though he was sure at least the person answering the door would be glad to see him and answer his questions, Clark still dried his palms on his dress pants. After an eternity that lasted about two minutes (when allowing for the age of the person answering the door and the size of the house, showed that Clark was expected) the huge door opened without a sound.

“Master Kent, it is a pleasure to see you.” 

“Maybe for you Alfred.” The rest of that sentence didn’t need to be said, as they both knew the other person in the house was harder to predict. 

“Come inside, sir. Would you be interested in a beverage?” Alfred stepped aside to let Clark in, professional butler face firmly in place. 

“Only if it would get me drunk enough to force this to make sense.” The door closed behind him, and Clark would like to think he was safe enough to drop the nervous reporter act. He didn’t, because even Superman had a reason to be nervous right now. 

“I requested that he remain at home, but he was most insistent on attending the meeting, Master Kent.” 

“I was off planet, so I think he felt he had to be there.” 

“What mischief did Master Bruce inflict upon the meeting, if I may ask?” Alfred probably, no, definitely knew way too much about the Justice League and how it worked because of his employer. Even though Alfred knew this and Clark knew this, Alfred was still so careful about admitting to any of it, even when he was (relatively) sure about not being spied upon. 

Clark trusted Bruce’s security systems, probably more than Bruce would approve of, and spoke freely. Alfred walked beside him and still managed to lead the way to the cave entrance in the clock. 

“Green Lantern and I got back and the place was deserted. Half the JL had abandoned the Watchtower, even the people who live there, like J’onn. Of the remaining half, most were in the gym, beating on the equipment in fits of rage. Plastic Man was stretched out like linoleum, learning to make patterns and change his colors, something somebody has been telling him to do for a while. Flash was sitting still, holding a blender’s plug, trying to make it run with his personal energy. I couldn’t find Booster Gold or Blue Beetle, and somebody had put a curse on Batman’s room.” 

“Ah.” Alfred said, his face making a slight grimace of understanding. What Batman had done wasn’t as important as the results, and making sure it never happened again. “That would explain his quick return from the meeting and unusually jubilant mood, sir.” 

“So, may I ask why he let himself loose on the JL?” 

“Master Bruce has experienced an eventful week in all aspects of his life, and I believe we are approaching his 56th hour of consciousness.” 

“Awake for 56 hours? Is that humanly possible?” Clark had to ask, because he didn’t know (he’d been up longer but that didn’t mean much when it came to humans), and because it was hard to believe. 

“Not without a certain degradation of mental facilities, sir.” 

“Doesn’t Bruce have a plan in place for that sort of thing?” 

“Yes sir, but it is Master Bruce’s plan. As such, he has found a countermeasure.” There was a small frown on Alfred’s face, as if he was disappointed in his failure to out-plan Bruce. Alfred pulled a small case from his pocket and showed the darts inside to Clark. “If I felt he was endangering himself by being awake too long, I was to give him this sedative. The needles will not penetrate his work clothes and he has not changed in the last 30 hours.” 

“So I should take this dart and jab him in the jaw?” Clark asked, trying not to think of how squirmy Bruce could be. 

“I have attempted to do so, Master Kent, but his paranoia is increasing with each hour.” 

“Right.” Considering how paranoid Bruce could be on a good day, Clark didn’t want to think about this too deeply. “I’ll take two darts.” 

“Very good, sir. You know where to find me if you should need more, and I would advise you to prepare for the smell. Thirty hours in his work suit has not been conducive to personal hygiene.” 

Clark almost laughed, turning it into a choking sound. Alfred was right, it was just the way he put things that got to Clark sometimes. Mentally adjusting his sense of smell, Clark dimmed it to not smell much of anything and nodded to Alfred. 

Alfred opened the entrance and left Clark to his fate. Clark thought maybe it shouldn’t be so dramatic when you were going down to talk to a guy you occasionally had sex with and worked with a lot more, but he still thought the drama fit. 

Bruce was awake, muttering to his computer as he wheeled his large chair between monitors, making notes by hand and typing as he went. Clark let his feet make loud noises as he walked down the staircase, as startling Bruce wouldn’t help things at all. One dart was hidden in his left hand, the other tucked into the back of the waistband of his red briefs. The attack with the first dart was bound to fail, and then Clark could make a real surprise attack with the second. Bruce sent a few glances at Clark, but mostly kept at his work. His lenses were retracted, letting Clark see how bloodshot Bruce’s eyes were. 

“Bruce, we need to talk about the JL meeting.” Clark’s opening gambit was designed to make Bruce relax into insulting the JL. It made Bruce tense to think about how unprepared the JL was, but insulting them relaxed him. Bruce was a strange man. 

“Idiots! Clueless, don’t think or observe and if they’re our only line of defense say goodbye to this little blue planet, so long and thanks for all the fish.” 

Clark nodded, as if that made sense to him and stepped up to Bruce’s side. “What did you do to them?” 

“Them, the JL them? Do? Nothing, just talked, used my words.” 

Considering the way Bruce’s rapid fire delivery was getting to Clark, he could see how the JL would have been on edge anyway. And Bruce lived to push people off of edges, but usually only when he could catch them. “Why was Flash trying to make electricity?” 

“Late to the meeting, waiting on popcorn in the microwave. Might have suggested he learn to channel his energy better or I’d create a virus that was faster than him, followed him everywhere and shut off all electricity in a five mile radius so he’d never have hot meal again unless he cooked it over an open fire which could take hours and you know how he is about food so it was a good threat and I’ll be using it again unless he learns his lesson and did you know solar ovens, which use the heat from the sun to cook and have no actual flame still make J’onn quake in his little boots?” 

“What did J’onn do?” 

“Had the same crazy idea as you, except he tried to put me to sleep telepathically instead of with the darts I gave Alfred and don’t think I won’t mention this to Alfred later. I will, even if he is the scariest thing in the universe when he’s really angry. He’s just so damned competent that he can do anything he sets his mind to. Praise whatever gods you like that he’s also to damn nice to not be a good guy. Can you imagine if Alfred was a villain? I don’t know how I’d ever stop him!” 

Clark took a deep breath, trying to keep calm in the face of Bruce’s excitement. Many times, Clark had hoped to see Bruce happy and excited, willing to open up and say what was on his mind. Now that it had happened, it was freaking Clark out and he wanted it to stop. Clark had heard Bruce say something about that before, so thanks to his eidetic memory he got to hear Batman’s growl say it again. _“Be careful what you wish for, you may get it.”_

“Bruce, you know you gave Alfred these sedatives for a reason.” Clark showed his hand, and the dart in it as he spoke. “You need to sleep.” 

“Why? I tried, can’t, therefore don’t need sleep. I’m getting so much done and I’ve always got so much to do.” 

“Think quality of work. You’re doing stuff but you’re not going to be happy with it when you’re rested.” 

“Nothing wrong with my brain!” Bruce yelled, glaring at Clark. 

Clark kept one eye on this dangerous man and looked at one of the monitors. “Bruce, that document is what to do if the Joker tries to take over Gotham with mosquito paper.” Clark wasn’t going to ask, as he figured the title was proof enough of insanity. 

“Exactly! I’m so awake, I’m able to almost think like Joker, so I can come up with countermeasures!” 

“To mosquito paper, Bruce?” 

“Right! You know that environmentally friendly paper you can get for cards and invitations and it’s made of recycled, handmade paper and comes with flower seeds in it? That way if the card gets in the trash or compost heap or you even plant it, it grow flowers instead just filling up the landfill? It’s way better than plastic but I do wonder if it’s specific to the environment the card is being sent into, as introduced species of plants and animals are causing a lot of environmental problems by outcompeting the locals. What if White-nose syndrome is a mutation of a pathogen introduced from another country by inexpertly cleaned caving gear? Am I going to have to ask Alfred to come down here and spray vinegar on my bats to keep them from dying?” 

“Bruce, you’re getting a little crazy. Even more crazy than growing paper.” 

“Clearly you don’t understand. Instead of flower seeds, see, Joker puts mosquito eggs in the paper and prints instructions on them about putting them in water to grow water lilies or something. Out pops the mosquitoes, and nobody can figure out where they are coming from, it’ll drive people insane and then Joker won’t even have to push. I’ll be immune as long as the bats are alright, but what if the bats get sick?” 

Clark was about to laugh, but Bruce turned to look at him, bloodshot eyes worried and sad about his bats. Not getting sick with West Nile virus or having to run around in the bat-suit swatting mosquitoes, but at his pets getting sick. 

“Bruce, please baby, go to sleep and you won’t have to worry about the bats anymore.” Clark was so busy wondering how insulted Bruce would get at the tone of his voice, Clark wasn’t exactly sure of what he’d said, but it made Bruce’s eyes even wider. 

“That’s what you’d say if you were compromised, so how can I trust you? I’ve had all sorts of ideas for you…” Bruce trailed off, flicked his eyes to a monitor and back to Clark. 

Clark was too worried about Bruce right now to worry about these plans he’d thought up while drugged up on adrenaline. He’d make time to worry about those later. 

“Clark.” Bruce’s voice was suddenly, forcibly, reasonable. “I wonder if you’d help me do something. Before you say no, consider it’s almost guaranteed to put most men to sleep.” 

Clark didn’t take a step backwards, but only because he’d have already felt the kryptonite. 

“Clark, there is something I’ve always wanted to do, and you’re just the person I’ve been waiting for. I mean, I couldn’t hurt you, not really.” 

“You should, uh, explain a little more. I promise to hear you out.” Clark glanced at the dart in his hand, expecting Bruce to see the look. 

“Nothing like that, and I’d bet you’d enjoy it to. Matter of fact, I can guarantee you’ll enjoy it.” Bruce stepped forward, and used a gloved hand to slowly push the dart away from in front of Clark. He then stepped into that space and crushed his chest to Clark’s, whispering in Clark’s right ear. “The end results will have you begging for more.” 

“Tell me.” Clark asked; he did not beg and nobody here was aware enough to say otherwise. 

“I want to put you on the cot over there, and kiss every bit of your skin. And then, when you’re wet and aching I’ll lick everywhere I just kissed.” Bruce’s voice had dropped a register, and the hurried way he was talking made it sound like he was desperate to do the things he was talking about. “And when I can’t stand your beauty a second longer, I’ll take you in my mouth, sucking on your cock like it holds the secrets of the universe. When you give me those secrets, somewhere so deep in my throat I don’t even get to taste, you’ll be so happy you won’t even notice what I’m sticking in your ass.” 

“Will,” Clark’s voice had decided to try and hit soprano notes, so he had to clear his throat. “Will you be naked?” There was a reason he was asking, besides the desire that was obvious through his Clark suit, red briefs, and blue suit. He couldn’t quite remember the other reason why he wanted Bruce naked, but knew it’d come to him if it was important. 

“For you Clark? I would do anything for you, even get naked. Just leave the dart over here and go get naked in the med bay.” 

Dropping the dart onto the computer console, Clark carried Bruce over to the medical bay. He may be losing his perfect memory, but he wasn’t stupid enough to let Bruce go until he fulfilled his promises. He did set Bruce down in med bay long enough to super-speed out of his clothes, leaving them in a heap, before helping Bruce pull off his layers of armor. 

When Bruce was finally, gloriously naked, he gave a small push that had Clark flying to the medical table, literally. Bruce carefully arranged Clark just the way he wanted him, his ass almost hanging off the table. Bruce then did as he said he would, kissing and licking all over Clark’s body. Clark didn’t mind that Bruce was mixing the two steps, and was the first to break. With a needy moan, Clark wiggled and gently directed Bruce to his cock. Bruce went, deep throating Clark into a swift orgasm. 

Clark held onto the fleeting feeling as long as he could, but crashed down as soon as he realized something was in his ass, and it wasn’t Bruce. Lifting his head, Clark could see the medical tubing coming out from the general area of his butthole, and the medical tubing lead to a naked Bruce with crazy eyes. Right, he was supposed to be getting Bruce naked enough that he could get the sedative in him. Well, he’d managed to get something into Bruce, but Bruce was playing a different game. 

“Bruce, what are you doing down there?” 

“Getting the enema ready.” 

“Not really something that appeals to me.” 

“Me either, but this could save the world one day.” 

“When you put it like that,” Clark muttered. It was a sign of how far gone Bruce was that he didn’t glare at the sarcasm, trying to scare the words back into Clark’s mouth. “You will have to explain more if you want me to participate.” 

“You’ll just complain about how unlikely it is that Lex ever tries to take over the world this way, and I’ll have to explain that once your secret is found out it won’t take much effort to figure out your habits and then devise a collection system, all without you knowing.” 

Clark blinked at the idea the words were giving him, not at the sight of Bruce hanging an IV bag from a pole. Thinking about that would require Clark to run screaming from the cave. “You think Lex will try and take over the world with my, um, waste products?” 

“It does rely on your shit having a different composition than normal human shit, making it able to power weapons or something, but yeah.” 

“I think I’m going to get up now.” 

“No! Please Clark, I’ll make it worth your while.” Bruce’s voice went up at the no, and plummeted for the rest of his words, vibrating along Clark’s nerve endings. 

“Shit.” Clark muttered. 

“Exactly.” Bruce replied, as even a hyperactive zombie version of himself knew how to manipulate Clark. The voice was just cheating. 

Water floods in, somewhere that not even dropping into the ocean from space had put water in before, and Clark has to force himself to take it. Force himself to relax and think about Bruce, normal ‘so in control it’s scary’ Bruce touching him there, sliding in and filling him with warmth. Until the desire to excavate his bowels distracts Clark and he has to say something. “Bruce…”

“Relax Clark.” A hand slips up to rub slow circles over Clark’s abdomen, somehow helping Clark relax. “We need to leave this in for a few minutes, so I get a good sample.” 

“You’re going to make it worth my while, right?” This was a distraction, so Clark could get Bruce to sleep. It was just a distraction that involved cum. 

“Completely and repeatedly.” 

“Really?” Clark couldn’t fight back the eager tone, as he was busy fighting against the needs of his own body. 

“Ask again and I’ll think you’re calling me a liar.” 

Clark wisely searched for a different topic. It was a short search, preoccupied as he was. “Do you really think there is some strange waste removal process in my body that could be used for nefarious purposes?” 

“You’re so naive for someone who can eavesdrop from space. What do you do up there?” 

“Listening for trouble, not listening in on bedrooms.” 

“You should try it; you might learn a thing or two.” 

“After sex with you, what else could I learn?” 

“Flattery will get me playing with your dick.” 

“Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?” The words rushed out of Clark’s mouth, but Bruce slowly trailed his hand down, tickling and teasing. Clark smiled, ready to enjoy it, and his stomach gurgled at him. “Shit, Bruce, I’ve got to shit.” 

“Use this.” Bruce had magically produced a large, clear plastic tub and was now holding it out for Clark. “And stay where I can see you, no switching things out.” 

“Where would I even get someone else’s…” Clark let the sentence go in favor of another noise from his innards. Bruce’s paranoia was definitely showing, and Clark could do something about his guts. Parking himself over the plastic pot, Clark turned his back to Bruce and pretended he was alone. World was quiet this afternoon, when Clark could have appreciated a good attack. As long as the bad guy stayed away from poo and poo related products. Once he felt empty, Clark turned to stare at Bruce. “I’m done. Can I use your shower now?” 

“Who’s stopping you? But if you hurry, I’ll give you your reward.” 

Clark did hurry to the shower, but that was just because he didn’t want to see what Bruce was going to do with the container Clark was leaving behind. Once he felt clean, Clark walked back, unsure if he should be hoping for his reward or for Bruce to be asleep. 

Bruce was still awake, and naked except for a pair of rubber gloves, as he stood at his microscope. The tub was nowhere in sight, but Clark could guess at what Bruce was looking at through the microscope. 

“Bruce, I wish you’d reward me by laying down with me on your bed upstairs.” 

“And if all the raindrops were lemon pops and gumdrops, I’d never go inside again.” Bruce almost sang the words. “Are you going to try and force me to lay down?” 

That paranoia was showing again, adding Batman’s growl to the soundbite. 

“No, I won’t force you. I’ll let you reward me; I like your ideas when it comes to rewards.” 

“I like rewarding you, when you earn it. I also like fucking you, you’re so responsive. I wondered about that, thought your impervious skin might decrease the sensations or something. Thought about asking Lois, but she gets so _Lois_ around any version of me so I’d have to go in disguise, and she’s a lot of things but not an idiot so it’d have to be a good disguise, which would be lost if I started asking what sex was like with her boyfriend and his secret identity.” 

“Bruce!” The sharp call got a sharp stare in response. “Sorry, but you’re starting to talk like the Flash.” 

There was a long pause, before Bruce pulled off the gloves. They landed in the trash can behind Bruce without him needing to look, naturally. “Maybe it is time for a change of topic, if I’m starting to sound like him. And you’re naked, which is not something I like to waste.” 

“Flattery will get my hand on your dick.” 

“My body is flooded with adrenaline and other hormones in an effort to stay awake. So I doubt my dick will be taking part in these proceedings.” 

“Oh.” The small noise was very disappointed. 

“I’ve got something else in mind or, more accurately, in rectum.” 

“Not sexy.” Clark called, even as he willed his cock to not prove him a liar. When did his cock get trained to equate Bruce to sex? How did one train Bruce to have the same reaction to Clark? 

“So you don’t want the prize in my cracker box?” Bruce sounded genuinely hurt, which kept Clark from laughing. With a dramatic turn, Bruce stretched his chest across the table and beside his microscope. Spreading his legs, Bruce accented his next words with a swirl of his hips. “Come on Clark, grab the brass ring.” 

If there hadn’t been a ring hanging from Bruce’s ass, if Clark hadn’t had the image of Bruce working himself open while Clark was in the shower, if, if only. Clark might have laughed it off, or sedated Bruce at last. Instead he speed over, to tease the buttplug out of Bruce, letting it slide back in and starting again. 

“Bruce, why do you have this in the cave?” 

“I was planning on adding a touch of, of, oh do that again, kryptonite and trying it out on you.” 

Clark stopped what he was doing, getting a needy squirm out of Bruce. Squirming wasn’t helping Clark prevent himself from coming like a geyser, as Bruce’s words were telling him to do. Fortunately, Bruce’s next words helped, like a bucket of ice water down Clark’s pants. 

“But then Lois started that series of exposes on _‘Prince in Gotham, Slut at Home’_ and I decided she didn’t deserve the joy of playing with your ass.” 

“Bruce, please. I’m the Man of Steel with the cock of cutting diamonds, would you stop talking about Lois?” 

“Fuck me until I can’t talk then!” 

A twist, a pull and the plug slid out, showing Bruce was lubed up and ready. Clark still took his time, edging in until Bruce was under him and all he was aware of. Bruce shoved backwards, until Clark was flush against Bruce’s pelvis. Grabbing Bruce’s hands, twisting them up behind his back, Clark leaned his weight down to pin Bruce to the sturdy work table. 

“This is my reward, and I’ll take it how I want it.” Clark growled, but waited for permission. It wouldn’t be verbal, not from Bruce, but Clark still waited. 

Bruce sighed, relaxing under Clark, accepting this. A kiss between Bruce’s shoulder blades, and Clark started moving. As slowly as he possibly could, Clark pulled out completely, held the pose, and pushed back in. Bruce lasted three such torturous strokes before trying to push back and take control of the pace. A hand on his hips stilled them, and with the other hand still holding Bruce’s arms, Clark fucked him as long and slowly as he could stand. 

Clark was superhuman, but human was half of that word. Eventually his own need forced him to speed up, pounding into Bruce and always aiming for the prostate. When Clark finally came, his eyes whited out for a second and when he could open them again they were very wet. Shaking his head to keep from thinking about what crying during an orgasm might mean, Clark set Bruce free. Carefully rubbing at Bruce’s arms, Clark hoped Bruce would fall asleep before noticing the not-tears. 

“Guess that woke my dick up.” Bruce muttered slowly, sounding sleepy and surprised. 

Clark thought laying Bruce down might encourage that sleepy thing, so he scooped him up. Not wanting to waste time going to the bed, Clark just laid Bruce on his clothes. From there, it was a simple thing to trail kisses down to Bruce’s cock and give him a blowjob. Clark swallowed, pretending Bruce didn’t see. Bruce saw everything, but Clark didn’t want to know that, didn’t want to admit how much he’d come to like the taste of Bruce this way. 

Smiling after he’d enjoyed his orgasm, Bruce patted the clothes and wriggled over a bit to make room for Clark. 

Clark gleefully snuggled down, filing away the idea that a sleepy Bruce secretly liked to cuddle after sex. With his head resting on Bruce’s shoulder, Clark found himself speaking. 

“Bruce, you know so much, why don’t you know Lois and I are over? We were, long before we made it official and split up. Everybody keeps telling me I should move on, try to find somebody new, even Lois says so. Thing is, I’ve decided I want something old. Well, not old, it’s just this thing we have is, whatever it is, has been around a while and I think I want more. With you.” 

There was no answer, none of the thousands of responses Clark had imagined to this news, so he lifted his head to look. 

“You’re sound asleep at last. You really will do anything to avoid this conversation, won’t you?” 

Bruce didn’t reply to that either. 

With a longsuffering sigh, Clark x-rayed Bruce. “All that wiggling and you found the sedative stashed in my belt. You insufferable man.” 

Picking Bruce up and setting him on the recently used medical table, Clark took a few seconds to put his clothes back on. The used dart went into the same trash can with the rubber gloves, and Clark carried Bruce up to the master bedroom. Turning to leave, Clark startled at the sight of Alfred in the doorway. When he’d landed, he felt it was safe to talk. 

“He’s down for the count, Alfred.” 

“Thank you, Master Kent. I will delete the footage from your visit and explain things to Master Bruce when he awakens.” 

“The way things are going, I should burn those cameras every time I enter the cave.” 

“Sir, such an extreme measure would force Master Bruce to be more creative with his surveillance techniques.” 

“Bruce more creative? That’s the last thing the world need right now. Ask the computer about the mosquito paper.” That got an eyebrow out of Alfred, but Clark only just got to see it before a siren caught his attention. “Got to go, but do tell Bruce to be careful of what he finds in the cave.” 

“Very good, sir.” 

A wave and a smile, and Clark went out to save the world, though he really wanted Bruce and him to save each other. 

sB _Sb_ Bs


End file.
